


Beyond the mirror

by sumptingwhumpting (Pantouffle)



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Eating Disorders, F/M, Hurt Zuko (Avatar), Hurt/Comfort, Narcissism, Ozai (Avatar) Being a Terrible Parent, Ozai (Avatar) is an Asshole, Sick Character, Sick Zuko (Avatar), Whump, Zuko (Avatar) whump, Zuko is an Awkward Turtleduck
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-27
Updated: 2020-12-27
Packaged: 2021-03-10 16:27:06
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,479
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28350126
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pantouffle/pseuds/sumptingwhumpting
Summary: A few month's after his mother's departure, Ozai takes Azula and Zuko on a trip to visit the psychic fire benders temple on a remote island. In spite of Zuko's best efforts, events go from bad to worse. New abilities are revealed, relationships are strained, and both siblings are forced to look deep within themselves for answers they may not be ready to find.
Relationships: Mai/Zuko (Avatar)
Comments: 3
Kudos: 47





	Beyond the mirror

The Fire Lord was silent, his long frame folded in the perfect seiza. To the casual observer, he would have been the picture of regal elegance. Zuko knew better though, looking at the thin line of the Fire Lord’s lips and the barely perceptible tick of his finger over his right knee.

Zuko swallowed and forced himself to focus on his breathing. Although they were on the Golden Phoenix, one of the finest ships that the Fire Nation had ever created, the deck beneath him still creaked against the force of the waves.

_You don’t know that he’s mad at you. There is any number of people on this boat that could have annoyed him._

The Fire Lord snorted suddenly. Zuko flinched reflexively, earning another exasperated sigh.

“We are going to lose the light. Why can’t I see land on the horizon yet?” the Fire Lord hissed to the ship’s captain.

“Pardon me my lord, but the tides are powerful strong…”

“Are you saying that this vessel is not capable of countering a simple tide?”

“No my lord…” the captain flinched. “But you see, if we were to speed up, it’d get awful choppy…”

“You have three members of the imperial family and a crew made up of the finest sailors the navy has to offer. I think a little ‘choppiness’ is something we could all cope with. Make haste, captain, or do I need to reconsider your position in the Imperial Fleet?”

“No my lord. A thousand apologies my lord. I’ll go this instant.”

The tall captain hunched into a quick bow, and shuffled out of the room backwards, not daring to turn until his tall frame was completely out of sight.

“I cannot wait to get to Nami Island Father,” Azula piped up. She sat to the right of the Fire Lord, Zuko on his left. “Will Master Tou begin training us immediately?”

“I should hope so,” the Fire Lord replied. “It is a privilege indeed that he has agreed to train either of you, and we have limited time to spare for this exercise. It is of the utmost importance that you both make the most of every moment of the three days we are on Nami Island.”

“If we ever get there,” Azula snorted, sharing a conspiratorial smile with her father.

Suddenly the boat lurched violently, cutting over a rolling wave. Beneath them, the engine roared. The sailors had obviously thrown everything they had to spare into its hungry fires.

“Ah, that’s more like it,” the Fire Lord nodded. “With any luck, Azula, there will still be enough sunlight when you arrive for you to give Master Tou a full demonstration of your abilities. Heaven help you, Zuko, if you’re only able to bend in the moonlight.”

Zuko kept silent, knowing better than to reply. With the ship moving more quickly through the choppy waves, he could feel every pitch and dip. The rice he’d scarfed down for breakfast churned in his stomach.

_Don’t you dare get sick. Not in front of everyone._

The last time he’d been on a boat with Azula and his father had been months ago, in the high summer. His mother had still been with them, back then. She’d taken him discreetly to the starboard side when she saw his face growing pale, telling his father she wanted to look for flying starfish. Zuko had followed her to the guard rail at the back of the boat and turned his face to the breeze.

“Better?” his mother had asked after a few minutes, watching the colour return to her son’s face.

“Yes...I mean, not that I felt bad before. A Fire Prince cannot be seasick, you heard what father said. We are rulers of the land and sea. It would be pathetic if we were to let the waves affect us.”

“Of course you weren’t getting seasick” his mother had smiled gently. “I know you weren’t. I just wanted some company while I took the air, is all.”

“Let’s stay here for a while then, mother. Just in case.”

“Alight,” she said, slipping a cool hand into his clammy palm. “Just the two of us, against the waves.”

Zuko twisted his hands in his lap. He tried not to think about his mother when his father and Azula were around.

_Show no weakness. Be strong, like she told you to be. Hide your hurt places, and they won’t be able to take advantage of your wounds._

“I think I’ll go for a walk on deck. Get in some stretches before we get there,” he said, dipping a quick bow to his father.

“Very well. Try not to fall in, Zuko,” he replied, waving Zuko out of the room.

Zuko shuffled to the deck, looking for a discrete spot to stand, just in case. Although the wave of fresh air that hit him as he ascended the stairs to the main deck had instantly cleared his head, he would be more than grateful to reach land, even if he doubted what awaited him on Nami Island would be much better than the boat.

It had been a week since Ozai had announced that the family would be spending the three nights of the Ash Festival holiday on Nami Island, training with the Fire Nation’s most renowned psychic fire benders.

“Master Tou is a living legend,” Ozai had told them over dinner. “Tales of your prodigious talent, Azula, are the sole reason you have been afforded this opportunity by the Fire Sages of Nami Island. Even royals are not automatically afforded this chance.”

“But father,” Azula said, “while I am of course thrilled at this chance to develop my skills to serve you better...why is Zuko being included in this trip? Surely his time would be better spent remaining here and focusing on the rudimentary basics he has yet to finesse?”

“Zuko’s name was on the invitation too. It would be a breach of an ancient code of etiquette that governs the interactions between Fire Sages and the Imperial family for him not to accept.”

“But what if Zuko embarrasses us all, father, as he did in training today?”

Zuko cringed, rubbing the newly formed blister that covered the palm of his left hand. He had been forced to train for an extra hour that morning when he failed to master a new form. As a punishment for his obtuseness, his instructor had forced him to put away all the training equipment himself. Realising that he was now running late for his calligraphy lesson, and fearing the calligraphy master’s rod, Zuko had accidentally picked up a still-hot metal torch. Azula had been following him around imitating the agonized yelp he’d letten out all that day.

“Then that will be on his own head, Azula. Zuko, I expect that you will show commensurate gratitude for this chance, misguided as it may be. Perhaps it would be kinder to leave you here, at the palace.”

“I won’t let you down, father. I’ll do my best!” Zuko had promised.

He’d barely slept the rest of the week. Having devoured every piece of scripture the palace libraries had on psychic bending, Zuko had drawn up his own training regimen, hoping for any edge over Azula. If he was honest, the scriptures hadn’t been too much help. It was mostly folkloric tales of psychic benders from centuries gone by, and complicated biological charts showing the flow of chi through psychic benders. Still, the little he’d gleaned helped him feel a little calmer. He was doing his best. He was trying as hard as he could. Ozai could not fault him for that.

*******

The ship docked in Nami Island’s tiny port just as the sun was beginning to graze the treeline of its famously dense forest.

“Welcome Fire Lord Ozai, Prince Zuko, Princess Azula,” Master Tou said, bowing deeply.

“Master Tou. Thank you for your most generous gesture in inviting my children to train with you.”

“The honour is mine, my Lord.” He gestured to the temple complex at the head of the beach. “Shall we begin, children? I would like to see you both run through the eighteen basic forms before we do anything.”

Zuko clenched his fists. Form eighteen had been the source of his troubles last week. No matter how many times he tried, he couldn’t nail the final steps, which called for a flawless exchange of energy from the ball of the foot to the heel, a backstep to anchor the form, and, while the energy was retained in the heel, a dramatic back arch was formed that seamlessly directed the energy up to the fists. In theory, should an opponent force the fire bender to make a backstep, the form was supposed to generate a dramatic counter fire.

“It’s taking their offence and turning it back on them twofold,” his master had said. “You make the retreat only to come back twice as hard. Count it, Zuko, if you’re struggling with the transition. One, ball, two, heel, three, backstep, four, arch, five, fire plume!”

The party made their way to the temple training complex. Large murals of the symbolic third-eye of the psychic fire benders decorated the walls. Zuko recognised the motif from his reading. Up close, the giant eye pictures added to his sense of claustrophobia. To his horror, rather than heading straight to converse with the Island Fire Sages, it seemed that Ozai would be staying to watch the demonstration too.

Azula began first, running through the forms one after the other with effortless precision. She was like a machine - every gesture perfectly calibrated, no inefficiencies of movement, no hesitation. Even a few months ago, Azula’s fire had been a mix of blue and red. As she’d begun to hit puberty though, her fire had turned hotter and hotter. Today, every flame was a glacial blue.

When she finished, the room erupted into applause. Not the kind applause a room full of older men might give a pretty young girl who’d just finished a dance. This was the appreciation of a group of connoisseurs recognising a perfectly cut diamond.

Azula took it all with the smallest of nods. She knew it was no less than she was due. Smirking, she turned to Zuko.

“You next, Zuzu! Make us proud.”

To those assembled, it might have sounded like a little sister sweetly encouraging her older brother. Zuko tasted the bitter jibe for what it was.

Inhaling deeply, Zuko began. His execution was clumsy from the outset. He hated performing. Channelling the fire felt like digging for clay when a crowd was watching him. He strained to move the energy through muscles that spasmed in anxiety.

Form eleven, which required total relaxation of the upper back, resulted in sputters and sparks, as the energy stalled around the knot between his shoulders. It meant he didn’t have enough fire to transition seamlessly into form twelve, so he had to pause awkwardly and clap his hands together to draw out the required flame, like a little kid. He caught a pair of Fire Sages exchanging a knowing glance. It riled him in his gut. Forms thirteen to seventeen zipped by easily enough after that, powered by belly-deep anger. He was merely containing the fire for those steps, there was no worry of the spark being extinguished.

He took a moment to breathe into the transition for step eighteen, letting the energy flow down to his heel and into his toes. He pointed his right foot like a dancer, moving into the correct stance.

_One - ball. Two, heel._

He paused a second, making sure his knee was correctly aligned and not looming over his toes. He was lazy and undisciplined, and he knew he was prone to making such slovenly mistakes. His master scolded him for it on a near-daily basis.

 _Three, backstep._ He fixed his gaze upwards, preparing for step four, the arch. Suddenly, he caught sight of his father. Ozai’s face was cringing with disgust, as though he’d just been presented with a rotten fish. Zuko stiffened.

_What am I doing wrong? Is it my posture? Do I look unsteady?_

Little needles of doubt ran down Zuko’s back, settling into his rib cage, where the fire was supposed to come from.

_Stop dithering, make the arch and the plume._

Taking a deep inhale, Zuko pulled himself up into the final steps. The fire came from his fingers in jittery bursts. Rather than the steady stream of flame, there were sparks, as though someone was hammering metal over a fire. Impressive in a blacksmithy. Lamentable in a prince.

There was no applause when Zuko returned his hands to his sides, signalling the end of his demonstration. His left hand felt sticky. He must have pulled the healing blister as he rattled through the stances.

“Thank you, most impressive. I see the dedication in both of you,” Master Tou said. “I am also confident that this school will have something to offer the both of you. Let us begin!”

Azula and Zuko obediently pulled themselves into seiza position, keeping their eyes respectfully levelled at the floor. Royal family or not, this was a master’s space, and the hierarchy of the training arena was one they knew well.

Zuko was glad not to have to look up. The mental picture of his father’s look of disdain lingered long after the Fire Lord had followed the Fire Sages out of the room.

“Of course, psychic benders are born, not made. I do not expect either of you to be capable of full motionless bending within the space of three days, or even three decades. There are however universally applicable practices that we can teach you.”

“Wait,” Azula said, a hint of vinegar in her voice. “We came all this way, and you’re saying we’re not even going to achieve full psychic bending, ever?”

It was unusual to hear her so upset. Then again, it was unusual for anyone to set limits for her these days. Their mother had been the one consistent moderating force in Azula’s life. In her absence, all that remained was Ozai’s hand to stay Azula, and he seemed to revel in the tendencies that her mother had tried so hard to quell.

“No, princess. You will not. Not if you haven’t shown signs of the ability already. As I said, however, I do feel that you will leave here better than when you came. Even someone with your natural gifts can take something from our school. Your father trained here too, you know. He would not have consented to this trip had he not gained from his time with us.”

“Very well,” Azula demurred. “Let us begin.”

By the time the moon had risen to its fullest, Zuko was exhausted. They’d spent hours being led through deep upper-body stretches and drills. Then, for the final part of the session, Master Tou had them crouch down on their haunches, and attempt to meditate. After a few minutes, Zuko could see even Azula begin to strain. Still, she kept her stance. He shuffled his heels uncomfortably.

“Clear your mind,” Master Tou droned. “Let all thoughts flow away. There is no pain. There is only blankness. Let it take you. You should not be feeling discomfort. You should not feel anything. Prince Zuko! Deeper into that squat if you please. Deeper. Feel your knees contract. That’s it! Hold it…hold it…”

Zuko clenched his jaw tightly.

_You can do this. Finish strong. Don’t screw up again._

The minutes ticked by agonisingly slowly until finally, a distant gong chime reverberated through the training complex.

“Dinner time! Alright, that’s it for the day. I will see you here at sunrise. You are dismissed.”

Zuko and Azula nodded, drawing themselves up into quick bows, before retreating from the room.

“Oof,” Azula said, rubbing the backs of her thighs. “I really thought I was going to give out there.”

“Yes,” Zuko said, seizing the rare flicker of camaraderie. “And I thought lotus position for an hour was painful!”

“Oh Zuko, you struggled with that? I meant Master Tou’s voice. God, what a bore. On and on and on. All this way, and he thinks I’m going to go home satisfied without picking up any psychic bending?”

“Well, he said you’d show signs really young if you had it, so…”

“So what? He can learn, I can learn. Really Zuko, if you just tried occasionally, instead of crying like a baby at the first hint of a challenge, maybe you wouldn’t still be bending like a junior school kid.”

“Fine, you show us Azula. Show us all these secret talents you’ve been hiding all these years,” Zula said, feeling fire guttering around his finger tips. “Show us how much better you are than everyone here on this stupid island. All the people who’ve spent their whole lives learning this intricate skill.”

“Zuzu, can you keep it down, I’m really trying to retain the mental tranquillity Master Tou tried to help us establish in the session.”

“What are you talking about, you were just…” Zuko began, baffled at the sugary sweet tone that had crept into Azula’s voice. Too late, he realised Ozai was standing at the door to the banquet hall, waiting for them.

“Ah Zuko, I see you’re behaving as expected. Come children, we must join the Fire Sages for dinner.”

“I’m not that hungry,” Zuko mumbled. “I’d rather just get some rest and prepare for tomorrow.”

“You’ll show some respect and attend the banquet! And you will not, Zuko, pick at your food like a prissy girl. I see the boys in your class shooting up, and here you are, a skinny weakling. Behave like a man. Eat like a man. Come!”

Zuko nodded sullenly, following behind Azula and Ozai to the raised dais where they would be served.

The meal passed by, a succession of elegantly presented courses that he shovelled away as quickly as was polite, pouring the food down with long glugs of water. It was tasteless in his mouth and felt heavy in the pit of his stomach, but he felt Ozai’s peevish gaze on him through the meal. He didn’t dare leave a morsel.

Finally, he was released and led by a gentle footman to the sanctuary of the room where he’d be sleeping for the next three nights. Once the door swished shut, Zuko wandered into the ensuite bathroom and let out the deep sigh he’d been holding in since they’d docked on the island. The food churned in his stomach. He gripped his bloated middle, knowing what was to come. Moments later, following a few quick jabs to the back of his throat, all the courses he’d forced down found their way back up and into the commode.

Tears streaming down his face, he forced himself to look in the mirror that hung over the washbasin. In the sputtering candlelight, his drawn features resembled one of the theatrical masks his mother had decorated her bedroom with, dark eyes as empty as the cutout holes where a person was supposed to look through. He looked at the reflection and he felt nothing for the person who saw back. He extinguished the candles with a quick inhale and the sad boy in the mirror disappeared. He was glad to see him go.

**************

The morning dawned crisp and clear. Nami Island was mountainous, and the air felt much crisper than on Zuko’s home. Shivering slightly as his feet hit the wooden floor, he pulled a thick cloak from his trunk before padding to the training room.

Azula was already there, dressed in nothing but her scarlet silk gi training clothes, embroidered with designs based on fire poppies and dragon tails. Even when she was grappling around with other students and sweating through crunches, she had to stand out as special. Zuko shrugged off his cloak and folded it up as small as it would go, shoving it behind a pillar. His own gi were plain black linen, as close to invisible as he could get.

He stood next to Azula and mirrored the low squat she’d sunk into.

“Quit making so much noise, Zuzu. I’m trying to meditate.”

“Move anything with your mind yet?”

“Shut up, dork.”

“Kiss ass.”

“What did you call me?”

“What do you think?”

“I think,” Azula said, rounding to face Zuko, “that you forget yourself, brother. You are in the training space, and while you are older, here, I am your superior.” Blue flames danced from her fingertips, wickedly vivid in the frosty air.

“And I, Princess Azula, am your superior, within these four walls. Kindly join your brother in meditation, and we can begin.”

Zuko closed his eyes and tried to look serene. It was hard not to smile.

_Enjoy the moment for all that you can now. You’ll pay for it later._

“Mindless. Be mindless. Let the blackness take you…” Master Tou began.

Zuko let Master Tou’s voice carry around him. Although he was used to training in arid heat back home, the cold wasn’t as uncomfortable as he expected. He felt focused and ready to work. He breathed the air deeply, letting it flow in and out, melting into the rhythm. Time stretched and wound around him.

He had no idea how long he’d been squatting when Master Tou clapped his hands together and called; “Excellent work, both of you. Zuko, especially, has a wonderful focus. Please, take a moment to stretch, and we will begin our morning’s work.” To Zuko’s surprise, the sun had fully risen, its rays just beginning to arc through the windows of the training room. He felt its energy beginning to permeate his chilly limbs, waking up his numb fingers and toes.

“The darkness that you let yourself sink into so well this morning is at the core of psychic bending. That blank void place within you, where you know nothing, you feel nothing - only when you can be at one with that place of absolute dislocation, can you contemplate generating fire without moving your body. Now that you have tried the first step, dislocation, we move on to the next - mental extension.”

Mater Tou pointed towards two square blocks of wood that stood in front of Zuko and Azula. He must have set them up while they were meditating. The tip of each block was just level with Zuko and Azula’s eye line.

“Stand three foot from your block. Feet hip-width apart, but do not strain. Let yourself feel loose. No discomfort. Let yourself relax Azula!”

Azula’s eyebrows flared, but she took a long exhale and let her spine relax. She wasn’t used to receiving such basic corrections. Zuko eyed her warily, wondering how far Master Tou might push her.

“There is a penny on top of each block. I want you to concentrate your energy on the penny. The metal has been lying outside all night and is nice and cool. I want you to try to heat it.

Find the dark place. Close your eyes, if it helps. When you are in that spot, you feel nothing within. I want you to look outside yourself. Extend yourself from your body using only your mind, towards the coin. Imagine your chi flowing into it.”

Zuko threw a sideways look to Azula. She was smirking. Master Tou had lost her, he could tell.

He shook his head, forcing himself to concentrate.

_Maybe you can do something before her, for once, if she’s going to dick around today._

He closed his eyes and let his mind crawl back, back to the dark space, where there was no boy, no training room, no Azula. Once he found the void, he let his energy wander, imagining himself as a lighthouse, his chi the beam, roaming around, feeling for the cool metal. Keeping his eyes shut, he imagined the cold weight of the coin, steely against the warming air. He imagined the penny as a white star, warming slowly as his chi filled it with energy, screwing up his brow in concentration.

Gradually, he became aware of something new in his surroundings. A strange woody smell - the floorboards perhaps? No, there was a toasty note, as though something was singeing. He opened his eyes and jumped back, startled. A thin wisp of smoke drifted from the top of his block. He stepped forward and poked the penny on top cautiously, jerking back his finger instantly. It was as hot as the torch had been last week. Where it had originally lain before he’d moved it, a perfect dark circle was branded into the wood.

“Brava, Prince Zuko! You have done excellently, especially for your first attempt. Why I’ve seen born psychic benders who came here take longer to master extension in their first weeks.”

Azula snorted. “Nice beginner’s luck there Zuko.”

“Not luck, Princess Azula. No bender could have done that by chance. Your brother has talent - but that doesn’t mean you can’t achieve the same thing if you just let your mind be still. Stop calculating. Stop strategising. Let yourself go. There is room for both of you to succeed equally in this space.”

“Stop blathering and let me try then.”

“Very well, Princess. Prince Zuko, let’s try you with a thicker coin this time. I’ll let you keep whatever you can heat.”

Zuko nodded, a tendril of disquiet pulling inside him.

_Now you’ve done it. He’s watching you, don’t let him down. You always let everyone down who gives you a chance. Mom was so patient with you, even when you fucked up again and again. She kept standing up for you until she had nothing left to give._

He sighed and closed his eyes again.

Here goes nothing.

This time, slipping into the void was like falling into a comfortable old jacket. The darkness enveloped him, and he welcomed it. There was nothing he wanted more than to not be inside his head, wrapped up within himself.

Seconds later, the oak began to sizzle.

“Wow. I think, on that note, we should break for lunch. Prince Zuko, you can collect your coins when they’ve cooled down. Really marvellous work.”

Zuko nodded, tongue-tied. He was used to servants and social-climbers fawning over him, desperate from crumbs of royal favour - at least, from those who didn’t know the extent of Ozai’s disappointment in his eldest child. He wasn’t used to receiving praise in the training room, where it meant everything.

Azula and Zuko ate alone in the training room with Master Tao, Ozai and the Fire Sages elsewhere. Lunch consisted of simple udon noodles and fried tofu with crisp iced tea brewed from leaves cultivated by the Fire Sages.

“This tea has been developed from plants with special properties for focus and deep concentration. Drink up!” Master Tao said, winking at Zuko.

While Zuko ate heartily, enjoying the simple pleasure of the warm soup after a hard morning of work, Azula picked at her food. In the upper echelons of the Fire Nation, the perfect female form was reed-like. While their mother had been famous for her 22-inch waist, Azula insisted that her kimonos be tied at 17 inches - smaller than any of her classmates - which meant doll-like portions of food. Sometimes Zuko wondered if Azula and her friends would be nicer if they weren’t so perpetually hangry.

After lunch, Master Tao led Azula and Zuko to a small side room. Inside were a series of vats full of viscous, bubbling liquid.

“Melted wax,” Master Tao explained. “Take two of the frames stacked by the wall, sandwich some paper in between them, and dip them in the vats. Once you pull it out, I want you to grab a handful of the metal pellets over there and arrange them in the wax in the frame in any pattern you like. Be creative! Just make sure no two metal pellets touch.”

“Are we doing an arts and craft class now?” Azula asked. “Because my father requested that arts be removed from my curriculum. I have no need for such frivolities. Not with the path I’m expected to follow.”

“This is your next training exercise, Princess. One we’ve been practising in this school for centuries. Once the pattern is made and the wax is cooled, you’ll be melting out the individual pieces, one by one.”

“Thrilling,” Azula muttered, just loud enough for Zuko to hear.

He rolled his eyes and set to work, focusing carefully on following the steps.

Soon, the siblings were back in the training room, settling back into the stances from that morning. Zuko was just about to close his eyes when Ozai strode in through the door.

“How are they progressing?”

“Very well, Fire Lord. Zuko, in particular, is showing exceptional focus…”

“Hm. He’s never been an obvious bender. I almost threw him out when he was born, you know. I’d seen more spark in a dying ember. Perhaps he has been internalising his power this entire time?”

Master Tou laughed nervously, taking the comment for a joke. “Well, it’s not so much about spark, per se. More marshalling the internal strength and…”

“Yes, Master Tou, I know how it all works. I studied with your father if you remember. Please though, carry on. I will be content to observe.”

“Yes...very good, Fire Lord. Prince Zuko, Princess Azula, please, show your father what you’ve learned.”

Zuko clamped his eyes shut. Seconds later though, he cracked them open a slit. Ozai was staring directly at him, a bored expression on his face.

To his left, Azula was the model pupil, her delicate face completely still. Within moments, there was a metallic ping as the first pellet in her frame warmed and slid through the wax to the wooden floor.

Zuko forced his eyes back shut.

_There is room for both of us to succeed in this training room. You can do this too! You did it first!_  
_Back to the darkness. Pretend father isn’t here. Pretend you’re alone. You’re not you. You’re nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing…_

  
His breath pitched and wavered. He repeated it to himself again;

_Nothing. Nothing...Nothing._

Whereas this morning he’d been able to sink into the absoluteness of the void, this time, the chant took on a different cadence. He wasn’t able to melt himself in the blackness. He railed at the sensation of being consumed by it.

_Nothing. You’re nothing...you’re worthless..worthless...what are you but a disappointment? A failure. You should die. You deserve to die. If you are the results of your work, then you amount to nothing, nothing, nothing…_

There was a cascade of clanks to his left. Without looking, he knew that Azula had effortlessly performed for his father. The minutes ticked by agonizingly slowly, his pellets growing cooler in the afternoon air.

Eventually, Zuko opened his eyes. He hadn’t warmed a single pellet. His cheeks flushed crimson in shame. He wished he could sink down into the depths of the earth.

“Oh thank the spirits,” Ozai said. “I thought we’d be here all evening. Come Azula, let’s leave your brother to train. Master Tao, please join us for dinner.” Master Tao nodded, giving Zuko a guilty look before shuffling to join the Fire Lord.

“Zuko - I expect you to bring me a perfectly clear wax frame when you’re done. I’ll know if you cheat.” Ozai nodded towards Azula’s wax frame, which was now delicately latticed where her pellets had fallen. “See how clean these edges are. It’ll be impossible to achieve this with anything other than extension. Correct, Master Tao?”

“Yes. Prince Zuko, think back to this morning. Just do exactly what you did. I know you can do it! We’ll see you soon in the dinner hall, I expect.”

Zuko nodded, folding his arms protectively across his body, as though it would block Ozai’s hostility.

When the three had departed, he sank to his heels.

_Worthless. Piece of trash. Every time Azula bests you, there’s less of you. You’re nothing, nothing, nothing._

The sunset deepened into the night and still, Zuko sat there, desperately trying to find the comfortable place he’d been in that morning. The more fervent his attempts though, the more his mind resisted. He’d been able to forget who he was, in the stillness of the morning, but now he’d remembered, he couldn’t escape from his mind. How could he, when the person he needed to please the most made him so nervous? He needed to relax to please his father, but the mere thought of the Fire Lord’s constant, grating displeasure was enough to send his heart pattering.

When he’d left the room for dinner, the last glare he’d shot at Zuko had been so full of violence, that if Oza had been a full psychic bender, he imagined it would have sent beams of fire right to his face.

Zuko collapsed to the floor, utterly spent. Lunch felt like a long time ago. He was completely empty inside. There were no candles in the training room; all the better to allow the students to learn the different tidal pulls of the sun and the moon, and how their bending waxed and waned accordingly. The moonlight shone faintly through the window, illuminating the white of the wax frame.

_Perhaps if I went to bed, and came in before the sun rose? No, what if father found me. He’d think I disobeyed him, instead of persevering._

He rubbed an old burn mark on his arm thoughtfully, a souvenir from the aftermath of a school bending tournament a few years back, where his father had really let him know what it was to feel like a loser. His mother had stopped him from competing in the following years.

_“You’ll do it when you’re ready. Let’s not give your father an excuse to get so riled up about something so silly. None of this will matter when you’re fully grown and have come into your bending. Not all fire flowers blossom at the same time, and the ones that come late in the season are all the more spectacular.” That’s what she’d said._

_Here I am, the spectacular late bloomer. Every day, more of a spectacular failure_

Remembering his cloak behind the pillar, Zuko tugged it out and folded it into a pillow. He’d just take a light nap, then get back to work. Maye some sleep would clear his tangled mind.

He woke up shivering uncontrollably, the first rays of dawn creeping into the room. There was no glass in the window panes, and frost covered the window ledges. His breath steamed in the chilled air. It took a few moments, but Zuko was able to dig within to summon a warming flame in his hands. He let it loop around his body trying to take away the worst sting of it, but the cold had settled deep within his bones.

He padded to the frame. His icy fingertips tingling, he traced the outline of the pellets.

At least the cold was a distraction. Taking a reluctant suck of the air, he let the darkness come swimming in. He imagined the warm sands of Ember Island between his toes, almost too hot to walk across in the midday sun. He imagined the warm embrace of his mother, wrapping him in a fluffy towel when he barrelled out of the sea. He remembered his Uncle’s hands - always so hot, blazing with power - tossing him up into the canopy of the palm trees. It felt like he could fly. He’d been so small then. The memory washed over him like a wave. He took it in, then imagined it radiating from him, a great warm halo.

There was a succession of pings. The pellets had fallen out of the wax like a heavy tropical rainstorm.

He leaned back on his heels, taking it in the wax lattice. He was a little dizzy now, swaying on his feel. He reached down for the cloak and wrapped it around himself. Master Tou and Azula would surely be here at any moment. He didn’t want to risk stealing back to his room to warm up.

_Better to let them think I got here early than stayed here all night._

He attempted to smooth down his ponytail while he waited. His hair was unruly at the best of times, let alone when he’d worn it all night. It never sat quite right, as a dignified Prince’s hair should. He was just wondering if heating some of the wax to use might work as a substitute hair oil when Azula strode into the room.

“You look terrible, big brother.”

“Pot to the kettle. You look like an overripe tomato in that gi.”

Azula sniffed and pulled at her training outfit, which was today a delicate blend of peach and ochre silks, emblazoned with pomegranate apples. The design was reserved exclusively for women of the royal family. It was supposed to symbolise fertility, which made Zuko feel a bit queasy when applied to his baby sister. All the more so considering Ozai had commissioned and gifted it to Azula for achieving perfect marks on her exams last summer.

“Your hair’s all kinky at the back. Did you sleep in here?”

“Of course not. I just couldn’t spend another evening listening to the Fire Sages bore on, so I went right to bed.”

“After you completed your task?”

“Of course. Right after you guys left.”

“How come the pellets under your frame are still warm?” Azula asked, feigning surprise.

“Oh, because I was... practising. Just now.”

“If you say so.”

Master Tou entered, puncturing the tension.

“Good morning students. Please assume your meditation stances for the final time.”

Zuko gratefully slid into his stance, not bothering to remove his cloak. Now the master was in the room, etiquette dictated that he didn’t bend until commanded, even if his limbs felt frozen. The darkness was comforting. After a while, he forgot the chill and the ache. He forgot that he hadn’t eaten anything since lunch yesterday and that he still had to face his father at some point that day. He was cradled in the stillness.

_Nothing. Nothing. Nothing._

When Master Tou brought them out of the meditation, Zuko felt ready to shrug off the cloak. Had the master used fire bending to warm the room somehow? It was almost stuffy. His gi was feeling a little clammy.

“For our final session, you will face one of the hardest aspects of extension. Transcending the self to become will. When you learn to do this, nothing will hold back your bending.”

Zuko looked up to see two mirrors hanging on in front of himself and Azula, where the blocks had been yesterday.

“Behind each mirror is a wax-coated metal disk. You will reach around the mirror - keeping your eyes wide open - and melt the wax. We have all day for this. You may begin.”

For the first time, Zuko really focused on his reflection in the mirror. It wasn’t encouraging. His gi was creased and there was a splash of wax on the left leg from yesterday. The dark shadows that ringed his eyes were the only spots of colour in his face. He looked away quickly, uncomfortable to see himself as Azula and the master did that morning.

To his left, he noticed Azula glaring at herself fiercely. Although she looked perfectly rested, her hair intricately plaited by her handmaiden, Zuko noticed that she was studying her reflection angrily.

“Don’t look at the mirror. Think beyond the mirror. You’re more than that reflection. Behind the form the world sees, you have the potential to be a magnificent energy conduit,” Master Tao said, his voice soft.

“I see you looking at yourself Zuko, and I can see the rhythm of your breathing slip. You will not always be that boy you see now. You will not always see yourself the way you do now. There is power and potential within you. Let yourself be still. Let your power flow. Around that reflection. Do not see yourself as the world sees you. Feel beyond and discover what you really are.”

Zuko bit his lip, not trusting himself to speak.

“Azula. You have much raw talent. I see so much control for one so young. But you are more than the picture you show to the world. You give the world everything it wants to see. But what is inside you? Who do you truly want to be? Do you see the Fire Lord when you look in the mirror? Or someone else? Are you really angry with the girl in the mirror, or someone with a face very much like your own?”

Azula trembled for a second, her eyes flickering wildly. Zuko reached for his sister’s arm, wanting to comfort her. For a moment, she was the innocent little girl who’d crept into her brother’s room when she was frightened of the late-summer thunderstorms that rattled the palace in the rainy season. Seeing Zuko flicker behind her reflection, Azula whipped around and shoved him out of the way, sending him crashing to the floor. He lay there, trying to catch his breath. There was a tightness in his chest that wouldn’t go away.

“Master Tao. You forget yourself! Even within the training arena, there are lines that should not be crossed.” She sounded a decade older than her true age, in that moment, although her shrill voice was very much that of a little girl.

Azula’s whole body seemed lit from within. Her hands quivered, as though she was struggling to contain the force of her anger. Master Tao stepped forward to calm her.

“Stay back! Don’t come near me. Don’t touch me. I am a Princess of the Fire Nation. You are nothing. Some stupid master of a backwater bending school. How dare you ask me… how dare you suggest…”

Azula’s eyes were bright with unshed tears. Zuko looked up at her fascinated. He couldn’t remember ever seeing her this out of control.

“I’m not her! I don’t care about her! I don’t care...about...you!” her finger moved towards Master Tao, and a bolt of ice-blue lightning came sparking out. The Master stepped out of the way just in time, and the bolt went arcing out of the window, landing on a brittle old tree outside, which abruptly sparked into flames.

Azula stood rooted to the spot, flexing her hand with a wondrous look on her face, like she’d never seen it before.

“Azula...did you…did she just shoot lightning?” Zuko asked, turning to the master. “I’ve never seen anyone but father do that before.”

“I believe she did,” Master Tao replied, calmly. “A very advanced and rather dangerous form of fire bending for one so young. Azula, show me your hand. Are you alright? Did you burn yourself?”

“Of course not!” Azula spat. “I am in control, I was just surprised, that’s all.”

The door came crashing open and Ozai came bounding in, a look of alarm on his face. “What in the spirit’s name is happening here? Master Tou, what is the meaning of this chaos?”  
He knelt to look at his daughter in concern. “Azula, what’s wrong with your hand?”

“I bent lightening father,” Azula said, snatching her hand behind her back and fluttering her eyelashes, hiding any hint of a scorch mark from her father. Even at that moment, she was stage-managing the event. “I’m sorry about the tree.”

Outside, a crew of Fire Sages were frantically throwing buckets at the burning shrub, which was blazing stubbornly.

“My girl. My amazing girl,” Ozai crowed. “You’re everything the world could expect from a future Fire Lord and a thousand times more.” He scowled at his son. “Look to your sister, and see everything you should be, Prince Zuko.”

Zuko climbed up stiffly from the floor. His face felt flushed. He realised for the first time that it wasn’t the room that was warm after all. The heat seemed to be radiating from within him. He tried not to shiver under his father’s glare.

_Perfect. We come all the way to this godforsaken island, and while Azula catches yet more acclaim, all I manage is a fever._

“Have you nothing to say, Zuko?”

“Congratulations, Azula,” he mumbled, remembering the words his mother had rehearsed with him in the past. “Your achievement is a credit to the glory of all the royal family.”

“You’ll say it to her, and one day, she’ll say it to you.” She’d promised.

“Come, Azula, I want to see you do it again - into the sea this time. We can’t be setting Master Tao’s training school on fire today. Not when he’s achieved so much with you.”

“Yes father,” Azula preened.

“Zuko, you stay here, continue with whatever you were doing, perhaps this won’t be an entirely wasted trip for you.”

“Yes father,” Zuko said, trying not to let the tears that threatened to spill escape. He was so tired.

“Master Tao, please take my compliments to the Fire Sages, and the promise of a significant increase in your annual bursary from the Ministry of Education.”

“Yes Fire Lord, right away.” He dashed out of the room without looking back. Zuko had the feeling he was terrified of Azula. He’d seen similar looks on other master’s faces in the past when his sister had unleashed her fury.

“Oh, and Zuko. Never let me see you present yourself in such disarray again. You look like a common teaboy. Worse - a street rat. How dare you represent your family in such a manner? Did you even look at a comb this morning?”

“I’m sorry father. I’ll do better. I’ll finish up here and go right up to my room.”

“No. You must learn your lesson. You’ll stay like that, in that filthy gi until we get back to the palace. I see no reason to linger on here until tomorrow. Azula must resume her studies at once, to continue building on her progress.”

As Azula and the Fire Lord exited the room, Zuko turned back to the mirror.

The tired, sickly boy was still there, all alone.

_There is space in this training room for both of us to succeed._

He inhaled deeply, as much as his sore chest would allow, and let the breath go. Again, and again and again, until faint black spots mottled his vision. As he let out one last wheezy exhale, he imagined releasing all of the hurt, the anxiety, the fever, pushing it beyond his body, and through the mirror.

The last thing he saw as his knees buckled beneath him and he slipped to the floor was a melted puddle of wax, dripping from the disk behind the mirror. He smiled, letting the blackness claim him.

******

When Zuko opened his eyes again, his throat burned. He was desperately thirsty and when he tried to raise himself upright, his head pounded. The sun was low in the sky. Had he been alone in the training room this entire time?

Pulling himself to a standing position, he saw the ship on the harbour, gangplank on the beach.

A stab of panic ripped through his chest.

_They’re going to leave you here, all on your own. You embarrassed them all and they’re going to leave you all by yourself. You lost your mother, and now your father and sister are losing you._

Staggering to the door, he puffed his way down the beach, barely registering the pebbles on the beach beneath his bare feet.

_Wait for me. Please wait for me. I’ll be everything you want. I’ll work harder, I’ll do anything it takes to make you look at me and feel pride. Please just don’t leave me here alone._

“Prince Zuko!”

He turned hopefully, wondering if his father was calling him from the temple complex. Perhaps his family hadn’t boarded without him after all.

To his disappointment, Master Tou was shuffling down the beach in a pair of wooden clogs.

“You forgot your cloak. I went to the training room to get you, but I can see your father already summoned you.”

“Yes..” Zuko said, swallowing back a cough. “I was just about to board.”

“I see. Without your shoes? Did the servants accidentally pack them away?”

“I like to travel barefoot. Helps to steady me on the boat,” he said lamely, trying not to see the master’s look of pity.

_What an idiot he thinks you are. The clear mistake. The first son that should never have been._

Thank you for retuning my cloak, but I really must be boarding,” Zuko said. He was even more desperate to get on the ship before he left than he was to escape the awkward conversation, irrational as it was. He could see several of the crewmen milling around the beach. There was clearly time to spare before the ship set sail.

“Prince Zuko, I won’t keep you, but I just wanted to say… if you are ever in need of a place to come, to train, or meditate...or just somewhere to shelter, you are always welcome here.”

“I don’t think I’ll be generating you any more lightning bending bonuses from my father,” Zuko said, thinking longingly of his bedroom back at the palace.

“One lightning bender is enough for one generation. You have more than enough potential of your own, Prince Zuko. Keep looking - beyond what you see, what you feel in the moment. Look towards what can be, if you can find it in yourself.”

Zuko barely heard him. There was a buzzing in his ears. He could see the captain striding across the deck, waving the crew towards the boat. Once he was aboard, he could find a quiet place to collapse, claim he was meditating if anyone cared to ask.

“Thank you. I’ll remember that.”

“And Prince Zuko...I’ll let you go after this, I promise...please find the ship’s medic. You don’t look well at all, and I’m sure your father will be anxious for you to be properly cared for.” He leant forward and put a cool palm to Zuko’s forehead.

“Great spirits Zuko, you’re burning up! Why didn’t you say something?”

It was this final kindness that broke him. Nobody had touched him gently like that since his mother, the night she’d left. Snatching his cloak, Zuko turned and scrambled away, half-tripping up the stairs in his haste to get away from the master. He grabbed the handrail, hearing a rush of feet thundering behind him. The sailors must be boarding.

He quickened his pace, hurrying down the corridor. The last thing he wanted was to be knocked over by a sake-soaked sailor. Unfortunately, as he rounded the corridor, he found himself crashing headfirst into his father.

“Zuko...look where you’re going, for spirit’s sake. Where have you been sulking all day? We’re pouring a toast to your sister’s triumph in the main reception room,” he did a double-take, taking in his son’s appearance.

“Why are your feet bare? You look like a common urchin...Are you trying to humiliate me further than you already have?”

“I’m sorry father, I didn’t…” Zuko began, cut off by a coughing fit that almost brought him to his knees. His father jerked away in disdain. Zuko cringed guiltily. Ozai had always abhorred any sign of sickness.

“What’s wrong with you? Is your internal fire so weak that it can’t warm you against a little island chill? This is the consequences of your mother wrapping you in cotton wool. She’s ruined you completely, and there wasn’t much to go on to start with. There are boys your age fighting - winning victories - for the Fire Nation in the frozen wastes of the earth, and you... you spoilt, weak child, ungrateful child, can’t even hold your own for a few days of training.”

He leered up close to Zuko’s face, his hand trembling. He was so close that Zuko could smell the sake on his breath. He wondered weakly if his father was about to cuff him around the head. It wouldn’t be the first time. He steadied himself against the railing. 

_Don't flinch, accept it. Take it like a good son, grateful for his father's steer._

“When we get to the palace, go straight to your room until you’re fit to be seen again,” Ozai hissed through gritted teeth. Zuko could tell he was trying to keep his voice down so the crew didn’t hear. “Truly, the brighter your sister shines, the duller you become. Get out of my sight.”

He raised a warning fist in Zuko’s direction and shot out a shower of sparks that prickled against the clammy bare skin on Zuko’s chest. He lurched onto his backfoot and raised his fists in surrender, feeling a wave of energy ripple up his spine.

_Form eighteen, I finally manage it, three fucking days too late._

Zuko waited a few moments until he was sure his father was truly gone before making a bolt for an unoccupied cabin, usually reserved for longer voyages. He flopped onto the bed. He let out a long exhale. There was a faint crackle in his chest, and he felt the raging thirst anew. He stared out at the darkening waves, imagining the cool water surging through the porthole. Imagining he could travel beyond the boy reflected in the glass, as smoke flows from a candle, into the ether, and into nothingness.

***************  
**EPILOGUE**

_**30 years later** _

Zuko stepped out onto the beach, shaking out his cape. Idly, he scanned for the blackened remnants of the tree Azula had blasted. He rubbed his hand over his chest thoughtfully. While the scar his sister had made remained, a faint pink spider across his chest in spite of Katara’s weeks of healing, time and the tide had washed away all evidence of his Azula’s lightning from the shore.

_Silly really, to think it would still be here, after all these years._

He felt warm fingers entangle his own.

“Is that the temple? It’s so pretty,” Mai said. She’d become quite the architecture enthusiast over the years, presiding over the redevelopment of the palace into a welcoming family home. Zuko liked to joke that it was her years in floristry that had sparked her latent passion for prettifying things. In response, she’d wave one of the many embellished daggers that he’d gifted her over the years.

“Let’s go in. You know how quickly you take cold in these chilly places,” she said, wrinkling her nose in concern.

“Are you calling me a sissy?”

“No love, just...delicate. A good thing I’m here, to look out for you.”

“Mom?” Izumi padded down the ramp behind them, pulling her sleeves over her hands to protect against the chill, “did you see my scarf?”

“In your trunk, Izumi. Ask your maid,” Mai said.

“Wow, it’s so bleak. I can see why you wanted to come here over Ember Island for the holiday weekend, Dad,” she said by way of reply, elbowing her father.

“You know if I’d tried that on my father…” Zuko began, reaching out to tug Izumi’s braid.

“I know, I know. He’d have put you on a barbeque and served you up on a stick. Oh, look! Is that a tiger seal? I’m gonna check it out!”

Mai and Zuko watched as their animal-mad teenage daughter flew up the beach.

“No, Zuko, before you give in, she is not adding that to her menagerie.”

“Fine, fine. Sometimes I wonder who’s in charge.”

“Seriously though, fascinating as the school is...did you need to come in person to inspect the temple before signing off the grant renewal? Could you not send an envoy...it’s a long way to satisfy a little bureaucracy.”

“I know, I know. You know I came here before when I was very young and very different. One of the masters here - a very great man - passed away recently. I wanted to pay my respects in person. I was not as... _receptive_ as I could have been when I was here. But over the years, the things he said came to mean a lot to me, in many different ways.”

“You’re a good man, Zuko. A sentimental man, but a good one. I’m picking the next vacation spot, by the way.”

“Very well,” Zuko shrugged, sliding his arm around his wife’s shoulder for a moment for a hug then quickly withdrawing it. The Fire Sages had begun to trickle out of the temple to gree them. He pulled himself up to his full commanding height, the very image of the Fire Lord he’d told the world he would be. Strong, calm, and guided by the people who loved him the best, for everything that he was, and all that his legend would be.


End file.
